Waiting Here For You
by Nik216
Summary: A little interlude set between Chapter 28 and 29 of "Even in the Darkness I'm Not Alone"
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So what is this you are asking?! Well I recently took a trip down to the lovely Commonwealth of Virginia to visit my baby sis, who was the inspiration for Katie in "Even In the Darkness", and while we were there we watched Lawless…and well the muse did that thing she does when I am lying in bed right before I fall asleep…and she was like, "You need more Bridget and Forrest." I tried to tell her that their story was done, but she told me to shut up and that I jumped a whole year between Chapter 28 and 29. So I am, per her nagging request, writing a short little interlude, probably like two chapters, that will fit in this time. **

**So I hope that you all like it, and enjoy going back…I sure did. ; )**

**Please as always, read and review!**

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One would think that after being shot in the stomach and nearly raped and killed by a man filled with hate and revenge, any woman who heard news _after_ the fact that she was going to be alright and live out the rest of her days perfectly healthy would be not be one to complain. In fact, she should be downright grateful that the Lord Almighty had seen fit to give her a second chance to be with her family, and with her new husband. But as Bridget Sullivan sat up on her bed speaking with Doctor Mills about her impending discharge from the hospital, she was embarrassed to admit that she felt like she was hearing the sentence of a condemned prisoner.

"Now, in two weeks you have healed real well since the surgery," the doctor explained as he adjusted his round glasses and stared at the woman with a patient expression on his face. "But I also know that you are recently a married woman. I think it is prudent to tell you that despite your husband's desires, and your need to perform your wifely duties, that your insides aren't ready for that yet."

Her face flushed red at the man's casual and clinical explanation of something so very personal. She stared down at her hands, and her blue eyes instantly went to the very simple band on her ring finger. It was nothing but a thin piece of tin and a small glass chip but it meant more to her than anything that could have been bought by a Rockefeller at Tiffany's. A smile that she couldn't hide came to her face when she thought of her husband.

Forrest Bondurant was a man with a legend, a bootlegger who ran his business with a feared reputation that filtered all the way from the mountains of Franklin County, Virginia to big city Chicago. But to her he was the strong, soft-spoken man with beautiful grey eyes and amazing lips who had become the head of his family at a young age when his brothers needed him, and took in _her_ family when they had nowhere to go. A man whose calloused hands wielded iron knuckles with ruthless efficiency and yet, those same hands had been so soft and tender on her skin that he'd brought her pleasure and made her feel things she scarcely imagined possible. He'd given her love, unimaginable and wonderful love in her world that had been nothing but darkness and loneliness for so very long.

And now the doctor was telling her that she needed to wait to be with him in a way that her body screamed out for.

Bridget tucked a strand of her long, curly auburn hair behind her ear and cleared her throat quietly, feeling embarrassed that she must sound like a wanton hussy for asking when she could be taken to bed. "How long must I wait? I mean, as a wife, I should know to tell my husband."

As if speaking of him managed to bring him about, it was at that time that Forrest's large frame walked into the small doorway of the white washed hospital room. Bridget smiled instantly at the comforting smell of the outdoors, motor oil, cigar smoke and coffee that always clung to him. He took off his beat-up hat and held it to his chest as he grumbled lowly, nodding to the doctor, and then sat down on the bed next to her. The moment he did, Bridget reached up to fuss with his worn tan colored sweater, noticing that the collar was fraying and she needed to mend it.

"You ready to go?" His warm, deep voice rumbled as he chewed on his lower lip. "Everyone is waitin' for you back at the station."

"The doctor was just talking to me about having to…take it easy when I get home," Bridget explained, trying not to notice the way his eyes were dark, looking at her with the hunger of a man that had been denied his meal for far too long.

Forrest's brow rose with interest as he turned to Doctor Mills, "What's she gotta be careful about?"

"She had injuries to her insides, Forrest, her womb. She can't lift anything heavier than ten pounds or so, and she can't engage in relations of any sort for six weeks. She could end up tearing her scar and the hemorrhaging could kill her." The doctor calmly explained. "This is very serious."

He seemed to think for a long moment as if digesting the information the doctor gave him. "Yeah, I hear you. She alright to leave now?"

"Yes," Doctor Mills answered. "I want to see her in six weeks to check up on her."

Bridget nodded as she stood and smoothed down the front of her plain green dress, following Forrest as he walked towards the front door of the hospital. "Miss Sullivan," His voice called out and she turned to see him handing out a small vial of pills. "If you are in pain take only one of these, they'll help."

She reached out to collect the bottle and smiled politely at him. "Thank you, doctor, for everything."

"You're welcome, Miss Sullivan."

"Bondurant," Bridget answered quietly. "I'm a Bondurant, now." Her eyes turned to see Forrest, his hat brim was riding low, obscuring his eyes, but she could see the full pout of his lips curling into a small grin at her words.

:o:o:o:o

The ride back to the station was a peaceful one. Bridget stared out of the window of the old truck and breathed deep as the warmth of the May morning caressed her face in a sweet breeze. She was alive, and she was so very happy. Her hand reached out to take hold of Forrest's that was resting casually on the gear shift. His warm, rough hand was so very gentle as he took hers, reminding her of the first day she'd met him and he shook her hand, treating her as if she were made of glass.

"Are you hungry for anything, special tonight?" She asked with a playful smile, knowing full well that he'd take her words two very different ways. The obvious, being that her younger sister Katherine was many wonderful things, but a fantastic cook she was not, and Forrest was about the pickiest man she'd ever met when it came to what went on his plate. She was quite sure in the two weeks that she was gone he'd been subjected to Katie and Jack's cooking to the point that he'd given up and done it himself.

And then there were the unspoken words that were in that same sentence, the ones that somehow had become tied to the almost unnatural desire and want that they had for one another.

He smirked, rolling a toothpick around his mouth for a moment before he spoke. "Now, I ain't one for orderin' a woman around the kitchen, especially when everythin' that comes out when you are there is the best damn thing I've ever eaten. So, you can do whatever you want as far as that's concerned. But all I want is somethin' nice and sweet for dessert, and a cup of your coffee as soon as we get back."

"Somethin' sweet, hmm?" Bridget mused, her mind going to the downright indecent things he had convinced her to let him do with his mouth. "I think I can come up with somethin' you'll like, Mr. Bondurant."

"I imagine you can, _Mrs_. Bondurant, I can think of somethin' already." His large hand strayed over the front seat to fall on her leg, and Bridget's cheeks instantly heated with blush as the crux between her thighs came alive with a damp, pleasant tingle.

"Oh," She breathed with a whisper, trying to control her racing heart that was threatening to pound right through her chest. How was she ever going to be able to deny her body for six weeks when everything was calling for him?

:o:o:o:o

Bridget remembered the first time she saw Blackwater Station on a rainy, cold afternoon almost two months ago. It was nothing but a simple wooden building, but then, as now, it was a haven of warmth and unimaginable comfort when she needed it most. It was home.

As she slowly opened the door of the truck, Forrest was already beside her, helping her step down with much more care and fuss than she would have liked. She wanted to scold him and remind him that she had been up and walking around for over a week at the hospital and she didn't need to be coddled like some sort of simpleton. But when he placed her on the ground and didn't step away, Bridget trembled as he reached up to gently stroke her cheek with his thumb before gently winding the other arm around her waist to pull her flush with the solid wall of his chest. She could feel the hard, strong ridges of his muscles and then, against her stomach, she could feel _that_ part of him, swollen and full with need.

He cocked his head to the side to clear the brim of his hat, before his beautiful, plump lips took hers in a gentle, but still ravenous kiss. It was the first kiss that they had shared as a married couple without the prying eyes of the doctors or the sterile walls of the hospital around them. She savored the scrape of his few-days-old beard, the pull of his mouth as he coaxed hers open to let his tongue slide deeply in, and most of all she adored the way his breathing hitched. It was proof that he was just as drunk on love and passion in the moment as she was.

She would have been more than happy to stay like that forever, but it wasn't a few precious moments before the screen door to the station slammed open and the loud voices of Katie, Jack and her nephew Patrick made them pull apart reluctantly.

"Auntie Bridget, you are home!" The little blonde boy yelled excitedly as he ran up and pushed between her and Forrest to grab tightly onto her legs.

"I am, baby." She said fondly as she ran her fingers through his wild white hair. "Have you been a good boy?"

He looked back up at Forrest, as if waiting for the answer and when he gave a curt nod, he smiled back at her. "Yes, I've helped Forrest every day at the counter."

"What have you exactly been helping him with?" Her voice was tinged with curiosity and a little irritation at the thought that the child had been around moonshine and carousing while she'd been gone.

"Nothin' bad, Miss Bridget," Jack piped up from the porch, "He's been folding napkins and filling salt shakers is all; just waitin' for you to come home."

"Yeah, he's a hard worker," Katie added as she snuck in and pulled her sister into a tight hug. "I missed you so much."

Bridget held her tiny sister in a tightly, "You just saw me yesterday."

"That was for an hour, and it made us all really sad to leave without you."

The honest answer made her laugh. It felt so good to be back. The entire group of them walked into the station and Bridget turned bright red when the group of five or so men that were sitting around one of the tables with mason jars in front of them, stood up and gave her a standing ovation complete with hoots and hollers for her return.

"Welcome back, Miss Sullivan!" One of them yelled, "Please tell me you are gonna be cookin' again soon!"

"Just let me get comfortable," She called back with a smile, noticing the frown that instantly was on her husband's face. She couldn't be sure if it was because she was already grabbing her white apron and moving behind the counter, or because he had called her by her maiden name.

They hadn't told anyone that they had gotten married. Forrest didn't think it was the sort of thing that was said in a hospital, and he wanted to wait until she got home and settled. It was the hardest thing that Bridget had ever kept from her sister. They never had secrets between them, but Katie was so over the moon for Jack that it wasn't difficult to do. The little time that she was given for visiting hours, was quickly taken up with her sister chatting on and on about the youngest Bondurant brother and further proof of Katie's daze was the fact that she hadn't noticed the ring that was on her hand.

But Bridget wanted to do it tonight. She wanted to sit down with all of her family and tell them that they were man and wife.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the door slamming open once again, and this time it was the elephant grace of Howard that filled the room. "As I live and breathe! She's back from her vacation! And here I thought you came to your senses and ran off 'cause you got a good look my brother's ugly mug."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, noticing that Howard seemed to have come from the barn and was as rumpled and disheveled as always, but there wasn't a hint of whiskey swimming in his pale green eyes. "Nice to see you too, Howard, and as for Forrest's face, I am sorry to tell you, but he's _rather_ handsome. I'm now worried that you may need to get those eyes of yours checked."

The banter rolled off her tongue and she winked at the laughing man as she quickly turned around to dump out the percolator and brew some fresh coffee.

It was good to be home again.

:o:o:o:o

Forrest breathed deep and closed his eyes, as his beautiful wife poured him a cup of coffee that smelled more incredible than anything in the world. He savored the warm liquid with the same reverence that he'd seen men show his product. But damn how he'd missed her. His home and his bed had been empty without her these past two weeks, and it was something that he could not tolerate for another minute. Bridget made him feel calm, whole, and after that horrifying moment where he thought he'd lost her forever, he was more determined than ever to spend every moment by her side until the day he died.

Though, at the moment, as his eyes looked up to see her round, generous breasts teasing him from the modest neckline of her faded green dress, he had to admit that he had less than noble thoughts about her. Those thoughts were focused more on the span of flesh in his pants that was practically pulsing with aching need for her warmth. It had been too long since he'd taken her…since that afternoon when she lay back upstairs and let him put his mouth all over her sweet little center. The memory alone had kept him company on the nights the doctor refused to let him sleep in her room and watch over her, he'd resorted to taking himself in his hand to relieve the want in his body. But it was a piss-poor substitute for his woman.

It had been two weeks. He frowned in the same moment when he realized that the last day he had her was the same night she was shot.

Rage simmered in his gut that he calmed in an instant as his hand fished into the pocket of his sweater to thread around his iron knuckles. The heavy weight that settled on his fingers reminded him of the brutality that he'd dealt for her, and how, after all these weeks he hadn't been able to properly repent for the way he'd treated her. He wanted a night to care for her like she deserved. But that son-of-a-bitch doctor had told him that he had another six weeks before he could enjoy his wife the way he should.

But as the intoxicating aroma of cinnamon and warm peaches reached his nose, he salivated at the thought that he'd said nothing at all about him not being able to do _that _to her.

:o:o:o:o

Dinner was set at five-thirty, and Forrest closed the station for the night. It was time for them to gather as a family for a long needed meal together. Bridget was exhausted, but as she stared at the spread of perfectly fried chicken, fluffy mashed potatoes, greens, sweet corn and piping hot buttermilk biscuits she was damn proud of herself. Even though she'd needed a fair amount of help from Katie when it came to lifting and moving things, and as she sat down next to Forrest and watched him plate his food and serve Patrick and everyone else, tears of utter happiness came to her eyes.

"Miss Bridget," Jack said with a smile, and half a mouthful of food. "Geez, I can't tell you how much we all missed your food."

Katie's little Cupid's bow mouth twisted into an angry grimace, "And what have I been doin' all this time?"

"Well, baby," Jack instantly turned to her with his hazel eyes apologetic. "I mean, I love you and all…"

"So my food is like the _worst_ thing you ever ate?" She was pouting now and Bridget couldn't stop smiling as the young couple stared each other down. Even Forrest seemed interested in the current events, letting his eyes drift up only momentarily between shoveling in his meal and savoring every last morsel of chicken.

And Howard, for the huge shit-eating grin that he had on his face, just sat back and watched the two of them with fascination.

It was Patrick who finally broke the ice with his little voice. "Auntie Bridget, why are you wearing a pretty ring?"

Katie's head suddenly whipped around to stare at her sister's hands. Her blue eyes went wide at the sight of a band on her ring finger and her mouth ungracefully fell wide open. "What is _that_!?"

Bridget looked over at Forrest who wiped his mouth with his napkin and looked back at her with an amused gleam in his grey eyes before he stared at Katie, a deadpanned tone in his voice. "I married your sister."

Jack and Howard froze, and then broke into identical grins that instantly showed their relation. The older brother slapped his hand down onto the table and stood up to walk back to the counter and grab a jar of brandy before he stood up. "Well, I'll be damned little brother. I'm happy for the both of you. This calls for a drink."

He poured out the brandy as Katie got up and ran over to Bridget, taking hold of her hand to stare at the delicate ring, "That is so pretty; I can't believe you didn't tell me! When did you do it?"

Bridget couldn't stop beaming like a fool; this was always the sort of silly thing that she would hear Mary and Katie giggling about when she was too busy working to bother courting and thinking about love. But she had to admit that being the center of attention for even a small moment felt good for a change. "The morning I woke up, just after you left."

Her arms came around and squeezed her in a hug and then without a thought she leaned over and gave Forrest a kiss on his cheek. Bridget's heart melted at the way the quiet man let her touch him, despite the fact that it was not something that he was remotely comfortable doing.

"Is that Momma's ring?" Jack asked quietly.

"Yeah," Forrest answered.

"It looks real nice," He said, emotion rising up into his voice that he fought to keep down. "I think she would have wanted someone like you to have it, Miss Bridget."

It was Bridget's turn to get up and cross the table, until she leaned down to hug the younger man and give him a kiss on the forehead. "Thank you, Jack. It means so much to me." She wiped her eyes as she could feel the tears begin to fall. As she turned back to her seat she leaned over to kiss Howard on the cheek as well, noticing that while he hadn't said anything, there was the gleam of tears shining in his eyes as well.

But as usual it was Patrick to put it into perspective, he simply looked over and smiled at them, "I knew that you were going to get married; because you love each other. Now I have a Mom and Dad."

:o:o:o:o

Bridget was exhausted after dinner. She managed to enjoy a small piece of peach cobbler and a very little bit of brandy, while Forrest had an entire plate full and a much more generous glass of applejack, and with Jack and Katie seeing to the dishes and after putting Patrick to bed she was finally made to go up the stairs by her husband who drew a warm bath for her and insisted that she relax.

"I don't need to be coddled," She protested as he tested the water for temperature and set out a towel and a washcloth for her.

Forrest didn't answer her, instead he stood up and shucked his sweater and sat down on the toilet to begin unlacing his boots. "Ain't coddlin' you, I'm takin' a bath with my wife."

"Oh."

Bridget's face flushed bright red with the thought of soaking with him; naked…she wasn't even quite sure how they would manage to fit. But as he stood up and slid of his suspenders, she turned slowly away and unbuttoned her dress and slid it off, before doing the same to her slip. Her hands were trembling as she unfastened her bra and then she pulled off her underwear. She felt like a nervous virgin, despite everything that they had been through together, and it was the sight of the ring on her finger that finally made her remember herself.

She turned around to see Forrest as he pulled his long shirt over his head and exposed the expanse of his strong body. Bridget chewed her lip as she thought of how lucky she was to have such a beautiful man that was all her own. And Lord help her, as she stared at the thick staff of his manhood, jutting out proudly at her, all she could think of was how thankful she was to have _that_ for the rest of her life.

He got in and sat back against the wide lip of the old tub and Bridget managed to gently climb in and lower herself into the hot water, sitting between Forrest's strong thighs and letting her body fall back and rest against the solid wall of his chest.

She couldn't help but sigh in a sense of spoiled contentment that she scarcely thought possible. The water soothed her aching joints, made stiff from two weeks in the most uncomfortable bed that she had ever lain in, and with the fact that she'd been sharing the Bondurant's old bed in the spare room with two people, and before that she was on little more than a straw mattress- it was saying something about the condition of the Doctor Mills' accommodations.

The warm water and the steady rise and fall of Forrest's chest began to lull her into a dreamy sleep. She closed her eyes and sighed and she was just about to drift off when she felt the rough scrape of his calloused fingertips as they danced across her collar bone in a slow stroke. Bridget stirred as his fingers dipped lower, tracing the tops of her pale breasts, and then stretching between them to stroke her cleavage. A hot, blooming tingle began between her legs as a sensation of want and need came to life in a blistering inferno.

She could feel him, against her back, still primed and very ready to join- and at this moment she wanted nothing more than to have him again. To take him deep inside her body and make her feel the wonderful sensations that only he could bring to life.

"Forrest," She whispered, almost ashamed at the breathless and wanton tone of her voice. "I…I need to feel you, I miss you so much I'm aching."

"Doctor says I can't," he answered in a low rumble, his pillow soft lips resting against the side of her face.

Bridget could feel her indignation and temper rising up, not at her husband, but at the awful situation they found themselves in. They were nearly torn apart, and now they were still separated. She stared down at the still very pink scar that was low on her belly; it was a few inches long, irregular from the bullet that pierced her, and expanded from the doctor when he had to go inside and repair the damage.

"I know you can be gentle," She insisted quietly, her face and neck flushing red with what she was asking for.

"No." He answered; his voice was low and almost irritated. "I ain't going to do anythin' that might hurt you."

The feel of his full lips against her face was filling her with such unbearable arousal that she angrily snapped at him. "I'm hurting now, Forrest! Can you tell me you don't feel the same?"

"Woman," Forrest growled lowly, "I've been walkin' around fit to burst my trousers for two goddamn weeks, takin' myself in my hand every night just to get some fuckin' sleep, so don't you tell me I don't know ache."

Bridget turned to stare at his face, her cheeks burning as she stared at his grey eyes, clouded dark with lust. She swallowed tightly and let her eyes fall down to stare at his mouth before she lifted her arm from the lip of the tub to curl around and grab his neck and pull his face to hers in a deep kiss. He tasted like brandy and sweet peaches and she didn't hesitate when he coaxed opened her mouth to drive in deeply. He kissed her with a barely contained savage passion that made her tremble in his arms.

But it was when his calloused hand travelled lower, trailing down her stomach to find its way through the folds of her femininity to touch that very small place that always screamed for him, that she felt her insides turn to molten fire. A low, desperate moan came from her very center and into his mouth as his strong, rough fingers began to very gently stroke the swelling bud. Her heart was hammering in her chest as he was so delicate and so tender, bringing her closer and closer to a feeling of absolute bliss.

She was shaking as she felt her insides tighten up; a small twinge of pain ghosted through her womb and then in a wave of unimaginable pleasure and release flowed through her body. Her hand gripped the side of the iron tub and her toes curled underneath the water. She could feel herself clench and throb over and over again in time with the roaring beat of her heart. She nearly sobbed at the relief she felt, and all the while she refused to look away from him. Blue eyes stared into grey as her husband took command of her body as only he could.

It was a few long minutes before she was able to speak to him again and even then her voice was shaking and weak with languid satisfaction, "Oh Forrest that was wonderful."

He grunted his approval as he stroked her soothingly few more times between her legs before letting his palm rest possessively against her stomach, covering her scar, "Glad I could be of…um… service."

Bridget couldn't stop the yawn that escaped her lips and she smiled at the thought that she was so exhausted after such little work today. It was certainly going to take her a little while before she was able to go all day and run the station like she used to. But at the moment there was something else that was taking up her mind, Forrest was still hard against her back, and he no doubt craved the same glorious feelings that he gave to her just moments ago. She had never taken a man in her hands and brought him to his end, but she wasn't exactly a blushing virgin bride either, she certainly knew the mechanics and general idea behind the entire thing. She turned around further to try to reach him and his hands came up to hold her in place.

"You don't need to do that, now." He said gruffly, "I'm just fine."

"The hell you are," She said tersely, "I can feel you."

"And you are damn near exhausted. I don't want to hear you argue another word, Bridget. You are gonna wash up and go to bed."

There was no arguing with the stubborn man once he set his mind on something, and she didn't even want to bother with it. But make no mistake, he may have gotten the upper hand on her for the time being, but he hadn't come close to deterring her.

After all she was a Bondurant now and that ought to mean that she kowtowed to no one.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: And here we have the cute little ending to this little bit…it's a little sexy, and thanks to the awesome that is Howard (yes, Mals, all for you honey), funny too. I could just write these two forever…sigh, but alas the muse has so many, many things in store for you all.**

**But here is the end of our little interlude and I hope you enjoy!**

**Please read and review, and I am so thankful for all the love for these guys!**

**Lazy editor- again! D'oh.**

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Three weeks later it was safe to say that things had gotten back into a comfortable rhythm around Blackwater Station. Bridget was behind the counter seeing to the steady stream of people looking for a hot meal and a little drink to relax their tired bodies and souls, Katie was busy helping Howard in the barn learning the finer points of running a farm, knowing that the oldest brother planned to leave for Martinsville some time after the harvest, Jack was generally found working in the garage, fixing cars for a price, and Forrest sat at his same table keeping his eye on the books and his woman while little Patrick looked on from beside him.

It was as if they had all always been there together, always been a family.

Bridget hefted the heavy cast iron skilled onto the stove; completely ignoring the look on her husband's face as his grey eyes narrowed at the exertion that he knew was still not cleared by the doctor. But this morning, Bridget really could give a damn. She was sick and tired of listening to his orders. Ever since the night that she came home, he'd lavished attention on her- every night touching her until she shivered in completion, her body becoming stronger and stronger under his rough hands.

But he refused to let her touch him. She wasn't sure exactly what his problem was, but it was starting to make her absolutely crazy. She felt him, so hard and thick, against her body as she slept night after night, and in the morning he would get up as if nothing was wrong and walk downstairs to begin his day.

It was more that she could stand. She was his wife, and it was her job to take care of him and make him happy.

She could feel her temper rising and she finally decided that she needed a little breath of fresh air. She walked around the counter and past the table where Forrest was sitting. "There are clothes hanging that I want to take in, I'll be back in a few minutes. Howard and Katie should be up any minute now for lunch."

He nodded and continued to chew on his toothpick, his eyes never lifting from the ledger that he was busy working on. Bridget stared at the profile of his face for a moment before she sighed and walked out of the front door, letting it close behind her louder than she intended, and yet somehow managing to accurately showcase her frustration.

She walked behind the station to where the clothes line stretched out to one of the out buildings and she slowly began to unfasten the full load of clothes and let them drop into the basket. The cool breeze felt good against her red, aggravated cheeks and she stood up to take a deep breath to calm down.

"Shuckin' off your chores inside again?" Howard's amused voice boomed from behind her and Bridget rolled her eyes as she looked back at him, walking up completely filthy from the barn.

"Yes, that's it Howard, I am out here foolin' around like a school girl." The sharp tone in her voice was unintentional, and as he reached into his pocket to grab a jar of whiskey that he'd been nursing for the better part of a week, she turned and stared at him.

"Am I an attractive, woman?" She couldn't believe that she blurted it out, and she felt foolish when he stared at her with a gob smacked look on his face.

"Uh, now, I don't think its right for me to be lookin' at my brother's wife with an eye like that. 'Specially when that brother is Forrest and he's liable to bust my face for doin' it. But Bridget, you are the prettiest damn thing I've ever seen. Why you askin' me that?" He was nervously scrubbing at the back of his neck and his pale green eyes were staring down at him feet.

Bridget chewed her lip and reached out for the mason jar in his hand, screwing off the top and choking back a burning mouthful of white lightening that made her gasp. She was going to need more than anger to get through this little tantrum. But damn it she wanted an answer for her husband's behavior. She handed it back to the shocked man and took a deep breath, "I'm askin' you because I want to know why my husband won't let me…well…he won't let me do my part…as it were."

"Say what?" Howard asked as he took a long swallow off his jar. "I ain't followin' you."

She covered her face with her hands, mortified that she was speaking about this out loud- and with Howard Bondurant for Heaven's sakes. "Doctor Mills said we can't…we can't have…" She was irritated with herself and she finally just blurted it out. "I can't lay with my husband for six weeks, and every night he's content to kiss and touch me, and he refuses to let me to anything back to him for relief. Am I wrong to want to touch him like that? Does a man not want that done by his woman? Is it too sinful?"

When she finally pulled her hands away from her face she was shocked to see that Howard's face was glowing a shade of red that she'd never seen on him before. At first she was mortified that her words had been so scandalous that she'd gone and embarrassed him. But then a playful gleam came into his eyes as he looked at her with a smile, "My, my, my I can't believe my ears. I'm worried about Forrest if he's not lettin' you do what you please."

"Well, I think he's worried about _me_," Bridget instantly defended her husband as she crossed her arms across the front of her mauve dress. "He doesn't want to hurt me."

"And he's a stubborn ass." Howard added with a sip. "Trust me he's no doubt thinkin' up all sorts of improper things he'd like to see you do, but he won't ask for it."

"Why not!" She demanded angrily.

"Have you met Forrest?" He laughed. "Man barely talks to me and I watched him come into this world. He's been takin' care of himself his whole life; I imagine it ain't easy for him to ask for someone to do somethin' for him, even if it is his beautiful wife."

"Oh," She breathed, suddenly understanding the situation from a totally different perspective. How could she have been so selfish that she hadn't thought that Forrest was too shy to let her do something like that to him? She stared down at the ground and then back up at Howard again, knowing that she was going to regret asking him this, but she reasoned he was kin now, and it wasn't completely inappropriate. "What would you want?"

"Pardon, ma'am?" He stuttered and then grinned wolfishly. "What was that?"

Bridget narrowed her eyes, "If you couldn't have things… as they were meant to be, what would you want?"

Howard laughed nervously, "Now this gets back to him about me talkin' to you and he's bound to castrate me. But, uh, I will say that there is a certain appeal that a woman's mouth has when it's kissin' you."

She didn't follow him at first, did he not understand that they were kissing one another just fine, it was….suddenly it dawned on her and a flood of hot blush covered her body from head to toe. Oh my, he meant for her to put her mouth, _there_!?

The expression on her face had to say everything that she was thinking because it wasn't a moment before he was laughing out loud. "I'm sorry, Bridget, now I know a woman like you isn't familiar with anythin' like that between a man and a woman."

She couldn't stop her eyes from going wide- oh she did know plenty. She knew what it was like for her husband to put his plump lips and his warm tongue all over her in a way that was both a sin and a gift from God at the same time.

Unfortunately Howard didn't miss it either, "Hot damn, _Forrest_?! I gotta say, man ain't much for talkin' but I guess he saves that mouth for other things…"

"Howard!" Bridget scolded angrily. "Keep your voice down." He winked playfully and she rolled her eyes, she was never going to be able to look at him again. Suddenly a serious thought came across her face and she cleared her throat. "Would you think less of your wife for doing that? I mean that is something brazen, and not for a proper woman."

The laughter drained from his face and he looked at her with honest eyes, "Bridget, that man loves you like nothin' I've ever seen, and no, I'd never think less of my wife for anythin' she did to me. I think a man and a woman ought to be free to be with one another however they want."

She couldn't help but lean in and kiss the man on his scruffy cheek, surprised for the thousandth time at the way that the Bondurant men were a study in contradictions, rough around the edges, sometimes crude, and on their best days not a one of them would be fit to be seen in a respectable church or social setting; but every single one of them had a heart of gold, and a sense of family and loyalty to those they loved that was unmatched.

"Thank you, Howard." Bridget said with a gentle smile. "If you want to head inside and wash up, as soon as I'm done here I'll make you some lunch."

"Now that sounds like somethin' I can enjoy."

:o:o:o:o

Normally Forrest wouldn't have found himself out at the still at five in the evening. That was dinner time, and this was work, and he didn't like one to interfere with the other. Especially when he'd been sitting in the station all day smelling the pot roast that Bridget had been slow cooking in the oven.

But unfortunately, thanks to Jack's big mouth and ambition, he was working like a jackass to fill a massive order for Floyd Banner that was going to be the first of many in the upcoming months. Now, at first he had come close to boxing his brother's ears when he heard about the deal he'd made without his damn permission. It was no different that the time that him and Cricket robbed him blind and sold the whole load of product he had when he was laid up in the hospital; but when the realization hit that they were making _seven_ dollars a jar, well, there wasn't much that he could say about that.

He stood at the furthest still and stared at the clear distillate that was coming out of the end. It was perfect, and he nodded in approval to no one in particular as he shook a jar full of it and stared at the tiny bubbles that formed and remained in the liquid, indicating the extremely high alcohol content.

Damn he was good at this. It was going to be a shame to give it up eventually.

Howard's lumbering form cast a shadow in the door of the small room a moment later as he walked in, hefting a heavy bag of sugar and he threw it down with a grunt and wiped his sweaty brow.

"Alright, Forrest, everything is unloaded for that next batch."

"Yeah," he grumbled in reply, "Alright, I want to get back."

Howard chuckled at him and stared from across the room with a somewhat satisfied grin on his face, Forrest's hackles instantly rose up, and his grey eyes narrowed angrily, sensing that instead of danger, he was going to have to deal with his older brother's fucking smart ass mouth.

"She'll save dinner for the man of the house to return, little brother; your wife knows her job."

"Yeah, well, I ain't about to make her wait around for me neither, let's get goin'."

The two of them walked out of the door of the perfectly hidden masterpiece of a still, and Forrest looked around and listened carefully for anything out of the ordinary as the sun was set behind the beautiful Virginia pines that surrounded them. After he decided that everything was as it should be, he padlocked the wooden door and threw over the sacks of burlap bag and pine needles that camouflaged the entrance and made it look simply like the side of a hill.

"Speakin' of your pretty wife," Howard spoke with a smirk as they walked over towards the beat up old truck, "Had a _real_ nice little talk with her this afternoon."

It was a baited question if there ever was one, and Forrest knew it. But the fact that he was going to be left with his shit-eating grin all night if he didn't bite pissed him off enough to finally cave. He sighed with an irritated grumble and clenched his jaw down hard.

"What about?"

"Seems like she's a little concerned about you," He pressed, "Worried she ain't givin' you what you need."

Forrest frowned as he pulled a toothpick of his pocket and put it between his lips, "Woman cooks, cleans and tends to the place as good as can be expected as she's getting' better. What ain't she givin' me that I need?"

The words barely made it out of his mouth and suddenly he knew that he walked right into a goddamn trap. Howard snickered and looked at him with a smirk on his scruffy face, "From what I hear, you are refusin' to let that woman put her hands on you and give you a little attention, and she's frustrated as hell about it."

His face felt hot, and Forrest knew that he was blushing, but he was also furious at the fact that his brother was talking about his personal business. For a moment he was angry with Bridget as well, what was that woman doing going around talking about what happened in their bedroom, and to his damn brother of all people?!

"She said that?" He grunted angrily, "That she ain't happy with me?"

"No you stubborn ass, she's plenty happy, from what I gather you have no problem at all makin' her _real _happy with that mouth o' yours."

That did it; he slammed on the brakes, happy when his brother half- bounced off the dashboard with the force of the impact. Forrest turned to look at him with fire in his eyes; his hands wrung the metal steering wheel until his knuckles went white and at this very moment he wanted to smash his face into a bloody pulp.

"You best shut your fuckin' mouth you dumb son-of-a-bitch, unless you want to end up with a shattered jaw."

"Woah, now," Howard said as he lifted his hands, "Calm your damn self Forrest, I was only half jokin'. Though now it all becomes clear to me as usual. You got a serious problem with your pecker needn' some attention if you are this wound up."

"I ain't askin' her to do anythin' like that," Forrest snapped angrily. "She's a good woman, not some floozy tramp. I went without it before, and I don't need it now."

Howard frowned and his eyebrow rose up with interest, "Yeah, you went without it before you met her. That's fine and dandy, 'cept now you ain't alone, and speakin' from the experience of a man who's enjoyed the company of a woman- there ain't no goin' back. And I ain't ever been with a woman as good as Bridget, so you are askin' the impossible little brother. That's your wife, I suggest you act like a man and talk to her."

He finished his rant, and then turned to him with a smile, "And how in the hell do you know she _don't _wanna help you?"

"I don't," Forrest grunted. "Just ain't fond of talkin' bout this with a lady."

Howard fished his now mostly empty jar out of his pocket and finished it off, remembering the way that Bridget had taken a swig earlier in the afternoon. Maybe after a little white lightening humming through her, and his subtle little suggestion, his little brother just might be a hell of a lot calmer in the morning.

"Well, I ain't an expert, but I have a feelin' it would be worth your while." He snickered as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Fuck you, Howard."

:o:o:o:o

Dinner was set on the table just as Forrest and Howard walked through the door of the empty station. The entire place smelled of savory pot roast and roasted potatoes and carrots, and both men seemed to stare at the feast and barely contain drooling at the sight of it. But they knew better than to even think to approach the table without washing their hands first.

After drying his hands on one of the dishrags, Forrest made his way to his usual seat and placed his hat on the corner of his chair, before he turned to look at his wife who was looking at his with a small smile, as she patiently waited for him to serve out the food. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but he found himself leaning forward to press a quick and chaste kiss to her soft lips before he spoke gently, "This looks like a fine meal, honey, thank you."

She almost seemed taken aback by his forwardness. Not that he was a stranger to touching her of course, in the privacy of their bedroom he couldn't keep his damn hands and lips to himself, but he preferred to keep his affairs private. But somehow the damn things Howard said to him on the ride back from the still, echoed in his ears. She deserved to know that he appreciated her.

"Thank you, Forrest." She said back in the same tone he had used, keeping it hushed only for his ears. "I have a nice sweet peach and pear pie for dessert too, should be good with a little brandy. I know how fond you are of the combination before bed."

He couldn't stop the tips of his ears from turning red at her words, knowing that she was specifically referring to the way that eating peaches and brandy somehow always made him think of tasting that sweet, hot fruit that she had hidden between her thighs. His body responded immediately to the memory of the flavor on his tongue, and his cock hardened to his full, impressive size. Forrest took a sharp breath through his nose and tried to concentrate on the huge plate of delicious food in front of him, but it was pointless. He needed relief desperately, and damn it, he knew that a fast jerk in the bathroom standing over the toilet was not going to calm him tonight.

He needed her touch.

Thankfully for him it wasn't long before Katie and Jack were talking a mile a minute about something foolish and Howard was joining in to rain on their parade. It was enough for him to manage to enjoy his meal it peace.

:o:o:o:o

Bridget stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom in nothing but her old, thin yellow cotton robe as she neatly combed her hair for bed. She was nervous, more so than she had felt in weeks, and she hoped beyond hope that her husband would not think less of her for the wanton things that she wanted to do to him. She breathed deeply and stared at her reflection, noticing that she was already flushing red. Thank goodness for the darkness and the extra sips of brandy that she'd had with dessert- she was certainly going to need it.

She turned off the light and walked into the dark hallway, past Jack's room and the spare room where Katie and Patrick were sleeping. Finally she was left at the last door, her and Forrest's room, and she walked in soundlessly, shutting the door behind her.

He was already in bed, and she could tell by the bare skin of his arms reflecting in the moonlight from the windows on either side of him, that he wasn't wearing anything at all underneath the blankets. Her feet padded across the wooden floor and she came to the side of the bed, taking a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, before she slid off her robe and stood bare in front of him. Her heart was pounding as she pulled back the patchwork quilt and crawled into bed next to her husband, but instead of taking her normal place in his arms she instead lifted the blanket further so she could throw her long legs across his thighs.

Forrest froze as she straddled him, and she was mindful of the thick staff of his manhood that was swollen and straining upwards. She carefully leaned over, her stomach touching the firmness as she brought her face to his, kissing him with a tender passion. His lips were so soft and he tasted of the dessert he'd enjoyed, it added a wonderful sensation to the way his tongue stroked against hers, and the eroticism of the feeling ignited a feeling of need in her body that gave her the confidence that she needed to please him in a way that would show him how much she loved him.

She let her lips part from his hungry kiss only to travel to his neck, were she gently touched them to every inch of the scar that marred the front of his throat, before she began to move lower. His chest was strong, hot and hard as her mouth and tongue nipped and licked down the beautiful expanse of muscle to the flat plane of his abdomen. When she finally reached his navel and playfully dipped her tongue inside the small cavern Forrest sucked in a breath and then suddenly spoke, his voice timid and almost confused, "Umm…what are you doin'?"

Bridget smirked in the darkness and thanked the Lord for brandy as she felt her response to his question fall out of her mouth in a husky voice as she slowly kissed along his waistline. "Hush, now and lie back, this ain't the time to talk."

It was the same thing he'd said to her right before he convinced her to let him put his mouth all over her. It was only fair.

"Now, uhh, I don't want…well…not to say I don't _want_…but…I..."

Bridget knew that she had only moments before he got enough leverage to mover her from her position, so her hand came up to grasp the length of him in her hand with a firm grip. He groaned lowly, and she was utterly fascinated with the way it felt. He was so soft here, and so hard at the same time; it was like velvet covering iron or steel. She was captivated, and she couldn't stop staring at it. The only think that brought her out of her trance was the sound of Forrest taking a shuddering breath above her.

His hands came out to fist the sheets and she knew that he must be so aroused and so in need of relief that it was painful for him. So she slowly brought her mouth to his flesh, placing a tentative and soft kiss against the tip of his manhood. A cry that was akin to an anguished yelp, gasped out of his mouth and then a trembling groan followed. It was enough to give her the courage to let her tongue slip out to touch him, and she was amazed at the slit at the very top that began to ooze a warm salty fluid.

He tasted strange and like nothing else, though it wasn't completely unpleasant, and for nothing else but the realization that she was consuming his seed the same way he drank her own moisture, made her very keen for more of it. She took another lick, this time dipping down to stroke the entire length of him from base to tip, and the lusty noises that it pulled from him made her redouble her efforts. She kissed and licked him up and down a few more passes, before she decided to hold him in her hand and take him into her mouth in an experimental and completely new sensation.

Bridget moved her mouth almost instinctively on his hardness, knowing that the feeling of her lips and her warm tongue around him like this must feel the same way that her femininity did. So she began to mimic the same up and down rhythm that he would use to thrust and she would use if she was sitting on top of him. It was a little awkward at first, but after she made herself comfortable, she began to work him in a way that was insanely arousing to _both_ of them. She alternated slow movements with a tight suction with her lips, and she was surprised with how wonderful it felt.

Forrest, the perpetually stoic and silent man- _her_ silent man-was grumbling, growling, and whispering like an animal possessed. Her eyes flitted up to see him in the moonlight with his head thrown back, and his plump lower lip was drawn up and at the mercy of his teeth. He looked like a stunning image of pure, unadulterated pleasure, and she could feel her own moisture dampening her thighs at the sight of him. It was a feeling of power and strength unlike she had ever known, having this fearsome man, one whose reputation alone was enough to command those around him, completely at her mercy. Lord help her for being a wanton lustful sinner of a woman, because it was more intoxicating than any corn whiskey.

"Bridget," he moaned out as his shaking hand reached up to touch her face, "I…umm…I…"

She _knew_ what he was trying to tell her, that he was about to meet his end. But she didn't want to stop; she wanted to be there with him at that moment, to know that it was her lips and her tongue that brought him there. She took a nervous breath, and dipped her mouth onto him again, this time not stopping. He transformed in her hand, swelling and hardening more than she could have imagined, before his whole body jerked and he shook and groaned lowly as his essence flooded her mouth and she swallowed it all without thinking.

Forrest was gasping for breath like a fish out of water and he suddenly reached down to pull her into his arms, sprawled across his wide chest. He was silent for a long while as he held her close, his rough hands threading through her long auburn curls and she was quite sure that he was slowly but surely retreating back into the calm, secretive shell that he existed in.

"God _d__amnit_, woman," He whispered, the hint of amusement and utter adoration in his voice, "I love you."

Bridget smiled against him and lifted her head to look into his eyes, marveling at the fact that he'd said it. He'd never said those simple words before, in all the time she'd know him. Not after they had lain together, when they were married, or even when she was in the hospital recovering. Maybe putting her mouth on him had been more that he could handle. His pewter eyes were still intense, even in the darkness and she leaned in to kiss his full lips with a slow, languid passion before pulling away.

"I love you too, honey."

Forrest reached up to cup her cheek with his palm, tracing her lips with his thumb. "I want you to have a proper home of your own. I'm thinkin' about working on the old farm house, it don't need much, just new beds for Katie and Patrick, and a good dining room table for all of us to fit around."

"Oh, Forrest, that would be just perfect." She felt a sense of incredible love and happiness swell inside her chest and it brought tears to her eyes.

"Now, I don't need you cryin'." She smiled and nodded as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was the moment that her husband was waiting for. Forrest managed to move them in one flip, shifting his weight and rolling Bridget underneath him. She gasped and laughed playfully as he looked down over her with a satisfied look on his handsome face, "'Course you and me are gonna need a bed too…a nice big one."

"Is that right, Mr. Bondurant?" She teased as he lowered his lips to touch her collarbone and his warm palms began to knead her breasts.

"Mmm, I reckon it is, Mrs. Bondurant. Now, hush that sweet mouth of yours and lie back."


End file.
